The 30th
by alaskayoungs
Summary: Welcome to panem, here the shining capitol rules over twelve districts, each year forcing each one to offer up a boy and girl through the ages 12-18 to be caged into an arena and fight to the death. The year is the 30th, and there's a unusual twist.
1. Chapter 1

I pace slowly down the ravine that leads me out of the woods; the sun is starting to set, and my mother will want to start supper. The sun almost appears like it's dipping into the water, extinguishing its flames for the day. The sky is a magnificent array of pastel colors that give off a very dreamy feel. I walk along with my brother Ignatius, and we both hold large pails that contain _many _fish. We've spent most of our day fishing at a small pond that is about a mile into the thick green woods. Typically, this would be considered illegal, and could earn us a death sentence or the worst if not severest of beatings. But it's done so much that it's the last thing anyone here has to worry about.

I cross our lawn, and set the full pail on the porch steps. My brother sets his beside mine, and we sit to clean the fish to be cooked for tonight's supper. My mother comes to check our progress and she's not disappointed as usual. Tonight we will have a large meal. Everyone here will, because tomorrow is the reaping. And in that case why not make your possible last night of peaceful supper your _best _supper? Tonight people will be either celebrating or will sit and worry. There are also those that just do not care one way or the other.

Everyone I know celebrates. Only few choose to sit and wallow in a pool of worry. Many consider it honorable to be drawn because they've been for this since they could hold a knife and toddle around. I could be counted in this majority, but I am not conceited like the rest. In the past few years of my life I have humbled myself. I have been raised by my parents to be selfless, and bold. But training is also technically considered illegal, but the capitol favors our district. I am from District Four, the fishing district. The Capitol absolutely adores seafood, so they tend to let it go.

My supper is awfully subdued. I play with my food using my fork. My mother glares at me for a moment, then shakes her head and continues eating. My father is silent and stern; he has a crease in between his eyebrows as he cuts his food. My brothers Ignatius and Jae, flick things at one another. I sigh, and my father clears his throat as a gesture to my brothers. They stop immediately and lower their heads.

"Oliveira, please eat something." My mother says softly. I look up at her then look away. I'm not hungry, but I finish my plate, and go to wash my dishes.

I walk into my room, and it's awfully dark. I find the oil lamp that sits on my dresser against the wall and light it. Then the other one on the small night table between the small four poster beds that sit adjacent to one another on either side of the room. I quickly light the other lamp, and then my eyes flick to the bed with pale green quilts. I almost want to get on my knees and break down hysterically. This bed that's been made for countless years belonged to my sister. My dead, irreplaceable sister, Aurelia. Her death was so despicable in my eyes. Four years ago my sister was drawn in the reaping for the 26th Hunger Games. I remember the day, the pain still fresh and immediate.

It was a sultry day, the sun beamed down on us. My hand was wrapped tightly around my sister's. I was helping supporting her, she was still a bit weak from her sickness, but she was not on her deathbed, so she was still required to go. Before we reached the square, my sister stopped me and got on her knees, and cupped my faced in her hands. Her voice still echoes in my head_. _

_"Oliveira, listen to me. Alright? Are you listening? Whatever happens, do not go crazy. Okay? If I get drawn, do not volunteer. Do you hear me? Don't. If you get chosen, I will take your place. Promise me you understand, okay?"_

I nodded and I remember my stomach dropping. I told her I promised, even though it was barely audible. She kissed my forehead and hugged me, and we continued to the square. I was only a small thirteen year old girl; I was rather fragile at the time. When my sister and I separated into our age groups, I felt my body go into an everlasting tremor. Then aura's name was called, and I ran screaming her name, bawling. Our peacekeepers threw me back; I landed hard on the concrete. My brothers who were only fifteen and seventeen at the time, scooped me up, and I still screamed. The cameras were fixated on me. My mother took me, and held me my sister's death was not despicable in that sense. Everyone in the capitol adored her and she even mentioned me in her interview. The interview also plays over and over in my mind.

_"So Aura is there anyone special back home?"_

_"My family of course."_

_"Ah, yes, yes. Could you tell us one person very precious to you?"_

_"Yes, my younger sister Oliveira. I love her very, very much and I hope she realizes it."_

The Capitol audience sighed with sympathy. Some even started crying. My mother and I both cried. But that is still not the despicable part. The games come, and her and the boy from our district ally with both from District Seven. Soon enough, the boy from our district and the girl from Seven get killed off by the boy from District Two, who gets killed by Thom, the boy from Seven.

One day the game makers decide to send in a horrendous thunderstorm. Aura, who was already very sick before the games and had just healed from it, was already sick again. And it was worse, so much horribly worse. I was so scared. I clutched on hard to my mother and bawled. Thom and Aura were trying to find shelter when Aura collapsed. Her heart was failing, and in that moment I was sure mine was too. She couldn't move, and Thom couldn't do anything but sit with her, until her eyes widened and her chest sunk in. Thom ran his fingers over her eyelids, closing them shut. Gently, he laid he flat on the ground, and folded her hands on her stomach.

That's when he noticed it. The small silver locket around her neck. He opened it and looked at the two pictures inside. One was of Aura and I when we were young. I was about five then. The other was of the whole family when I was a baby. He looked sorrowfully down at the photos, and closed it. Then he cut the pack off of her back, and then the cannon fired. "I'm so sorry." He kept saying. Over and over. The Capitol said they had tracked no trace of her sickness, but I knew that they lied. That's what made her death so despicable to me. The fact it could've been prevented and she could be home right now.

I shake my head and walk to my closet. I open it and take out my white blouse, and my black skirt. I lay them out on my sister's bed, and stare at them. They disgust me. I only wear this outfit for the reaping. Once I turn eighteen, I plan on burning them. I dig through my closet and pull out the matching black dress shoes. I throw them beside the bed and walk out of my room, to see my family huddled around the old TV propped up on the table against the wall.

"What's this?" I ask.

"President Snow has a mandatory speech." Ignatius says.

I sit on the floor and watch the TV. The Capitol seal appears, and the anthem plays in the background. The seal fades, and President Snow stands upon a balcony.

"Greetings citizens of Panem. As you all are aware of, tomorrow is the reaping. Upon this date, we have received information that will be announced at this time. Thirty years ago, when the games began, a rule was agreed for. This rule decrees, that on the thirtieth hunger games, there will be twice as many tributes. This means, that two boys, and two girls will be selected from each district. Alas, this is not the end of this statement. The rule also decrees, that if the last tributes standing are all from the same district, they will be crowned victors. Thank you for watching, and may the odds be _ever _in your favor."

His image fades, and the seal shows again, and the anthem fades. My mother quickly turns off the TV, and rushes to her room, followed by my father. My brothers stand up and look at me, nod and go to their room. I am the only child in my family left who is in the pool of names. My brothers have nothing to worry about. But I do. I get up, and walk to my room. I change into my white nightgown, and lay down. I close my eyes, and I feel them swell up with tears. Now might be the only time I have to cry. Tears flow down my cheeks, and brush down my lips. My tears are salty, and warm. In some unknown way, I drift to sleep.

I awake to the sound of my own sobs. I am drenched in sweat, and my hair clings to the back of my neck. I brush it over my shoulder. I had horrible nightmares. It's the same dream every time. I stand beside my sister, on her deathbed. She keeps telling me it's all my fault and I could've saved her. She repeats it over and over in the coldest tone. Then the cannon rings out and I sit in the rain screaming. It has never failed to scare me to pieces.

I get up, and look out the window. Rosy streaks fill the sky, and the sun peaks above the eastern horizon. There's no point in going back to sleep. I get up and start to get ready for the horrible day ahead. If all goes well, and I am not reaped, then my family and many others will celebrate. But I feel a pang of sorrow for the four families that will go home and lock their doors and windows wondering what will become of their children.

I brush my hair, and put it up. I look at myself in the mirror. Tan skin. Long, shiny, dark brown hair. Bright hazel eyes. This is who I am. On the outside at least. I hear a light rapping on my door. I turn around and see my brother Jae at the door.

"It's time to go." He says softly.

"Jae?" I begin, "What if I get chosen?"

My brother walks over to me and embraces me, "Whatever may occur, I know you'll get through it. If you do happen to get reaped, then our district will have a wonderful victor this year."

I force myself to smile, and he lets go of me and walks out. I look out the window, and see that rain is starting to fall. So far, the odds are not favorable. I smooth out my blouse, and walk out into the living room. My parents have dug out the old umbrellas, that won't probably do very much to keep us dry. My mother comes up to me, puts her hands on my shoulders and gives them a squeeze, with a pained smile. She kisses my cheek, and strides down the hall into my room. I don't question it.

The square is loud and busy for such a rainy day. I am already soaked as I walk under the tent to get my finger pricked. I feel the tiny jolt of pain, and the peacekeeper gives a curt nod. I go ahead to the holding area, which is in the wide open space. Rain is now falling in icy sheets, and I sigh. Since the front of the justice building has a roof over it, everyone underneath it is nice and dry while we all sit out here, getting cold and sick. The mayor steps forward and gives his usual speech, and does what he's required to, each year. Then Felicity, our district advisor steps up to the microphone. I grit my teeth; her ludicrous accent is enough to set me on edge.

"Welcome citizens of District Four! Happy Hunger Games! It is such a pleasure to be here on such a—_lovely _day." She pipes in an almost sing-song voice. A few people scoff, and some snicker at her poor humor. She shakes her head and begins to take off her black leather gloves. "Before we begin, we have a film for all of you. What a treat!" she exclaims. It's the same film they play every year. To remind us how stupid we were for even trying to defy the Capitol. I pay no attention to the stupid thing; I don't care about it.

When it finishes, Felicity claps her hands quickly, and returns to the microphone. "You all are well aware of the fun little rule we have this year! On that note, it's time to select the two boys and two girls who will represent this wonderful district. Ladies first, then."

She shuffles over to the girl's bowl, her high heel shoes clicking along. She starts to circle her pale hand around the bowl, and I feel my heart begin to rush. My blood boils, and a lump forms in my throat. She plunges her hand into the bowl, and digs around for a few seconds, and then takes a piece of paper. Everything is quiet, and I hear the rain falling on the ground. Felicity scurries over to the microphone and carefully plucks the black tape of the folded slip. She opens it, and clears her throat to speak the name that may or may not be mine. Her lips part to speak and my heart stops.

"Katen Surrey." She says looking out into the crowd.

I recognize the name, and turn my head to see the small girl start to walk past me. Her ashy blonde hair is in a braid down her back, and her big brown eyes flick around nervously. She walks slowly to the stage, and climbs the steps even slower. She is only thirteen, but I've seen her at the academy. She is excellent with knife throwing, and she can run and climb so quickly it's unbelievable.

"Let's give a hand for our first tribute!" Felicity exclaims. Not everyone claps, but there's a small applause, it's not much. I hear what I think is a female sob in the distance. Must be the girl's mother. "Moving on to the next girl then!"

I sigh with some relief, there is a prominent chance I won't get chosen after all. I watch Felicity's hand circle the bowl again, and then it plummets in and she digs around deeper, her whole arm almost in the entire bowl. She picks up two names by accident, and puts one back. She merrily skips back to her place, and opens the slip. I am more relaxed this time, and put my hands behind my back.

"And our next young courageous woman is…Oliveira Willow." She chokes on my name. Of course she knows it. She was the one who drew my sister's name after all.

My heart drops, this is the worst irony; out of the two slips she picked up, I am not spared. I want to break down and run, but I have no viable option. I see disturbed gazes all around me. I catch a glimpse of my family, they all have blank, dismal expressions. This is usually when someone steps up to volunteer. Why isn't anyone? I do not know how I am walking to the stage, I have no will for it. I feel completely frozen. My body is automatic. I have absolutely no control. I take my place next to Katen and stare out towards the distance. I see nothing but the tall buildings and rain falling on them. I wish they weren't so tall so I could see the ocean.

I turn my vision to Felicity who's just walking to the boy's bowl. She grabs the first slip she sees and walks to the microphone. She reads an unknown name to me, and a boy named Winfreigh Percival volunteers. It makes sense, he's eighteen. I know Winfreigh; he's a friend of my brother's and something of a genius with a trident. I've seen the way he dominates in training.

Felicity basically sprints back to the bowl with the other name. "Seamus Quentin." The name is not very familiar. I look at the boy with dark, dark brown hair. He's not bad-looking, a rather handsome face, and a lean build. I think I've seen him train a few times before, but I don't remember anything about him. Not even what weapon he's skilled with. This has led me to believe he's going to be dead. The sooner this is over, the better.

"Shake hands!" Felicity pipes up. I shake hands with Katen, her grip is awfully firm for so small. I shake Winfreigh's hand, his grip is strong. Then I shake Seamus' hand. He gives my hand a squeeze, and lets it go quickly. We're taken inside the justice building, where we will let our families say goodbye before we're hauled off to the capitol.

I'm put in a room that looks to be some sort of sitting room. I sit on the small red couch my mother calls a loveseat. I tap my foot nervously, and fiddle my thumbs. I feel my soaked hair pressed against my skin, and it makes me shiver. The door opens, and my family comes sweeping in. the peacekeeper outside tells us we have five minutes, and shuts the door. Instantly I go into my mother's arms and cherish her warmth. "_I love you"_ is all I can say to them over and over.

"Take this." My mother says, taking my hand and placing a silver necklace in it. My sister's token I gave her when she left. I thought it was buried with her. I guess not.

"I couldn't…" I say running my thumb over the locket's surface.

"She'd want you to." My father says. I look at him and give a small nod.

"Thank you." I mumble.

Jae takes me by the shoulders, "Oliveira, you know how strong you are. Use that strength, okay? The odds are high this year, I don't think you can win, I know you can." He embraces me and I'm almost at the point of tears.

"Time's up." The peacekeeper is shooing my family out the door. Ignatius stuffs a bag in my arms.

"This isn't goodbye, you know. I'll be seeing you soon, very soon." He says. The peacekeeper pushes him out and shuts the door.

As soon as the door shuts, I run to it, as if they'll actually come back. But perhaps Ignatius is right. This isn't really goodbye.


	2. Chapter 2

The car ride to the train station is silent, and in a word, miserable. I wasn't expecting it to be wonderful, considering there is a possibility my death may be eminent in the next few weeks. I don't know how I should be feeling. I feel rather vacant, there's not really a spirit within me. The rain beats upon all sides of the car and it is the only sound occupying the vehicle.

I know the train station is coming up soon because the vista of our beach is no longer visible; only the drab houses surrounding the outside of the town centre. People in their reaping day garb follow the car at some distance behind, hoping to see their tributes off. Felicity sits in the front seat of the car babbling in her enthusiastic tone, trying to cheer us up. Frankly, it's not helping.

"You'll just _love _the Capitol! Fine gourmet everyday, until of course-" She clears her throat, but sees her pep-talk isn't helping, so she quiets herself.

My clothes are still wet from the rain, but have dampened since we've been in the car. Winfreigh sits to the right of me, since I am by the door. He looks ahead in a fixed glance, not moving nor speaking. Katen sits across from him with her hands intertwined together, staring at her shoes. Seamus is next to her, with his eyes closed, almost as if he's fatigued. I feel a minor ache ease through my body, and I begin to feel somewhat nauseous. I lift my head and see the train station come into my view.

"_Finally." _Felicity lets out a sigh of relief as the car pulls to a halt.

I throw the door open as quickly as I can, and bound out of the car. I clutch the bag my brother gave me to my chest, and walk around the car and stand beside Felicity.

"This way, everyone!" She pipes.

The camera crews are locked on us and flashes from the cameras make me wince. They scream all sort of questions and nonsense at us, but I disregard it. I follow Felicity into the train out of the downpour that falls around us. We all file into the entrance that is just a small room paneled in titanium; the door slides shut and the camera crews disappear. Felicity presses a white button and the second door opens in a snap.

I am almost taken aback by the contents of the next room. I feel my eyes widen with fascination but at the same time, utter terror. The whole room is polished almost completely, every bit, from the walls, to the floor, to the furniture that decorates the lavish parlor. There is quite a bit of luxury in our district, but not to this extent. Red velvet tapestry lines all the walls, with golden curtains to match. The floor is a shiny red wood that glistens in the artificial light. The tables matches the floor in its wood, along with the surrounding furniture around it. Four plush, plump, garnet sitting chairs make a small circle in the corner of the room with a round table in the middle. Along one of the walls is a long table with a white tablecloth over it, and on top of the table is a bounty of capitol fare, that makes my mouth water with a great amount of distasteful yearning.

"What the hell?" Winfreigh mutters with a hint of awe in his voice.

I simply nod in agreement.

"Well," Felicity begins, "Don't just stand around. Come in, come in!" She waves us over.

I hardly noticed the two people sitting at the large table that sits at the heart of the room, slender figures with a suave ambience about them. The one with the long scarlet tresses, turns her head towards us in a fluid movement, with a look of solicitude about her marble-like face. Her cheeks are flushed with a crimson hue, and her lips are of the same tint. The other one, is hard in demeanor, with a crease above his brow. His eyes are an effervescent blue, and his dirty-blonde hair color complements them. His striking attributes are unblemished as anyone could remember.

Anyone from our district could easily identify them, they're quite hard to pay no heed to. The girl, Mica, won the games about five years ago when she was fifteen. It's quite an accomplishment, but not surprising someone so young from our district won the games. The boy however, Bren, won two years ago when he was eighteen. He is glorified by all of the district, and so adored by the young women of the district. He's unwed, yet some whispers in the wind say his heart is owned by another.

Personally, they're not huge figures in my life as they are to others. But since they are here the answer is already evident, and for one and only one sole task. They're here to mentor us. _Mentor. _The word almost gives a bitter taste in my mouth. Neither of them were mentors when my sister was in the games. Mica started mentoring when she was about eighteen, so she was Bren's mentor, and last year Bren advised the two tributes from our district.

"Come over here, you lot. Sit." Bren waves his hand, signaling us over to the table.

The others move towards the table, but I'm feeling a bit skeptical about all this, so I hesitate for a moment, but finally saunter over to them and take a seat.

"First of all, I'm sorry you're here. Maybe some of you want to be here," He pauses, and eyes Winfreigh, who has a smirk upon his lips, "But I realize some of you are greatly jaded from the impact of all this." He looks at me with a somber glint in his eyes.

I feel my heart sink a little bit, and look down. Mica shifts in her seat a little and I see her slightly nudge Bren.

"We're here to help you to the best of our ability, and we want to insure that we can get all four of you back home." Mica added in a cool tone, " Your survival is the main component."

"She's completely correct. You won't have much choice when you get in there. Either you get killed, or you're going to kill someone else. We'll go over that stuff later." Bren remarks.

"Meanwhile, I'll escort you four to your compartments and you can get all settled in before supper." Felicity chimed from behind us.

Felicity escorts us through the train, dropping me off first. The compartment is almost as plush as the main room. There's an elongated window on the wall adjacent the door. The rain splatters against the pane, and trees flash by. I have no clue what part of the district we're in, or even if we're in our district. I sit down on the bed, and run my hand over the soft velvet duvet cover on the bed, and it soothes me. I set the bag my brother gave me on the floor, then stroll into the bathroom to look around. The lights almost blind me, but my eyes quickly adjust. Almost all the milky furnishings seem to be forged from porcelain, and shine like every other ornament within the train's chambers.

Curiosity falls over me, and I rummage through my compartment's products. In the cabinet beneath the sink, there's towels and a few different types of fancy soaps and shampoos. I sigh heavily, then shut the cabinet door. I walk back into the main section of the room. I open up the dresser that stands near the bed, and rip its drawers open. My mouth almost drops at the contents of clothing it holds. The lavish garb is so erratic, it almost makes my stomach turn.

I walk into the bathroom and stare in the mirror. I never realized how tired I appear. My hair is almost dry, but my clothes are still thoroughly damp. I grab my bag off the floor and close the bathroom door behind me and lock it. I strip down and get into the shower. The warm water washes down my skin, filling the hollowness in my body with a pleasant feeling. I cleanse the burden out of me, at least for now.

After awhile, I get out of the shower, and get dressed into something that's a little bit more myself. My brother had my rucksack because we were to go fishing after the reaping, despite the rain. Within it's contents, was one of my usual outfits I wore, typically. I slip into my navy v-neck, that is loose on me, but rightly so. I then I put on my black pants that hug my skin, all the way down to my ankle. I put on my socks, then my black lace-up boots, that come up about halfway up my calf. When my hair has dried, I tie it back, then slide the door open, and head towards the dining car. I have not an idea of how long it's been, but it's starting to darken outside, so it must be evening.

When I enter the car, everyone is at the table.

"Finally, she shows up." Bren remarks with an irritated tone.

"I knocked on your door about a million times, at the least! I thought you were ignoring us." Felicity whines, her overdone face has a hint of red.

"I took a shower, I didn't think it had been that long." I groan, sitting down next to Katen.

"Don't budge her, she's allowed to do as she pleases. She's not hurting anyone, now is she? It's not a big deal. _At all. _So hush. She's here now." Mica snaps at them, but then lets out a breath, and puts her hand on my back with a kind smile.

Bren sighs, and relaxes in his seat. Felicity purses her lips, and sits down.

"All right, you four. You're going to have get along. Yes, I know that must sound like hell, but it's necessary for the situation." Bren spoke, in a calmer tone.

"I know you all might not at first, but once you're in that arena, it's crucial. First of all, try not to get killed. Second, be on guard. Any of those nitwits from the other districts can be crazed. They'll enjoy bloodying up any of you." Mica began, "Exposure is a deadly thing. Being in a daydream is even worse. One moment you'll be mesmerized or traumatized from your surroundings, then the next thing you know, you'll be on the ground gasping for life."

"That's not all of it, either. There's more we'll cover as we progress." Bren added, "When we arrive in the Capitol in the morning, you'll be handed over to your stylists. You're not going to like what they do to you, but it's a part of all this. Just grit your teeth and let it happen."

"Especially you, girls." Mica states.

We eat dinner, and only Mica, Bren, and Felicity converse. I make eye contact with the others, but either my eyes, or theirs, flick away rapidly. After our meal, which was composed of extremely rich fare, I am full, and feel a bit sick from the food. They release us to our own leisure, and I don't feel like returning to my room, so I wander about the train's corridors, looking for something to pass time by. I find the television room towards the front of the train, and the door slides open. Empty. I walk inside and hear the door click behind me. The room contains the same furnishing as everything else, with the large television on the wall, beside the door.

I sit on the couch adjacent to the silver screen, and look around. There's a cupboard directly below the TV, that has a collection of tapes within it. I get up and open the door to it, and on each tape there's a label.

_1st Hunger Games: Reaping_

_1st Hunger Games: Opening Ceremonies_

_1st Hunger Games: Training Scores_

_1st Hunger Games: Interviews_

_1st Hunger Games: Arena_

_1st Hunger Games: Victory Tour_

_1st Hunger Games: Complete Footage_

There's a set of tapes for each games that's happened in our history. I run my fingers a long the numbers until it stops over the number twenty-six. I feel tempted to watch the set of tapes, but quickly realize how dejected I'd feel later at the reminder of my sister's demise. Instead, I grab the tape that reads:

_28th Hunger Games: Arena_

This is Bren's tape. I load it into the tape player, and the television turns on, the screen hums with static, and black is all that is portrayed on the screen. The screen flashes and shows a view of the cornucopia. That year the arena was an abandoned harbor island. The sky was cloudy, and the water a misty blue-grey, with fog on top of the relaxed waves. In the distance there's the ringing of a boat bell. A slight hum of a seagull's cry reverberates in a whisper around the tributes. I see Bren, and he looks the same as now, except slightly more child-like in the face. Just as the sound of the gong goes off, the door to the room opens and Winfreigh pokes his head in.

"Am I interrupting?" He asks me, raising his brow.

I pause the tape, and get up. "No, you weren't."

"How are you?" He murmurs, looking in my eyes.

I sigh, "Do you have to ask?"

He gives a breathy laugh, "Not surprised."

He embraces me, and he's warm. Winfreigh is especially good friends with my brother Ignatius, so I know him well.

I let out a deep breath, "I don't wan't to be here. I want to be home. Asleep, in my own bed. Safe."

He presses his forehead to the top of my head, "I volunteered to keep you safe, and I'll insure you will be." He whispers.

"Thank you." I mutter.

Not long after, I decide to omit watching the tape, and go to bed. I drowsily stagger down the corridor, my eyelids getting heavier with each moment. As I pass through the dining car, I take a glass of juice, and a couple sweet rolls they served with dinner tonight. I make my way back to my room, and plop unto my bed. I take lethargic mouthfuls of the rolls, and sip the tart, yet sweet, deep violet juice in my cup. After I finish, I get into night clothes, then curl up under the covers and fall asleep.

The night is long, and I've become restless with each passing moment. The room feels hot, and I begin to perspire. I shove the covers off of me and sit up in bed. Through the window, I see there's faint streaks of dawn lining the sky. It emits enough light to see the outline of my surroundings. Exhausted, I wander into the bathroom. I don't bother turning on the lights. My fingers fumble to find the sink handle, but after a few seconds, I find it and turn it. Cold water runs over my hands, and I splash it onto my face. I feel awoken, but the tiredness is still there.

I suppose there's no point in going back to sleep, so I get dressed into what I wore yesterday, since it's not too dirty. I pack my reaping clothes into my bag, and head out to the dining car. The train is quiet, and when I get in the dining car, no one's there. A clock on the wall says it's a quarter past 6. Faint sunlight floods through the windows, illuminating the room. I'm not alone for long. After about 4 minutes, Bren walks in.

"Hello, morning." He says tiredly.

"Morning." I mutter.

"You're up awfully early. Come, sit." He taps his hand on the table.

I amble towards the table, and sit across from him. Servers erupt from the entrance to their quarters, with trays of extravagant food. They set it along the the long table, and just when I think they're done, they bring more.

When they finally finish, a tall young man walks up to me, "What would you like to drink miss?"

"Milk and honey would be nice, thank you." I reply.

"And you, sir?"

"Coffee. Please, don't be shy on the expresso. I am drained of any sort of liveliness. Also please sweeten it with vanilla."

The waiter gives a curt nod and glides out of the room.

"Did you rest well?" Bren asks, rubbing his eyes.

"Not particularly. You?" I respond, tapping my fingers on the table.

"Same as you. Restless, I presume?"

"Do you have to ask?"

"Enough said. I can't blame you. I was too."

"You seemed quite confident to me." I mumble, looking down.

"It was an act, easy as that. Any kid, no matter how old, or how much training you've had, or how confident you are in yourself. You'll be scared. There will be moments you'll be so intensely panicked you'll feel like you have no control of your surroundings, or your actions." He adds, rather dejectedly.

Just as he finishes, the tall waiter comes back with our drinks on a tray. He sets them in front of us, and returns back to his quarters.

"Morning!" A voice chimes from behind me. Felicity scurries us to the table and sits down cheerfully. "Is Mica up yet?" She inquires.

"No, not that I know of. She'll probably be here soon, though." Bren responds, picking up his steaming cup of coffee.

"Wonderful! I'm just starving, aren't you? I could just eat all this! Metaphorically, that is." She giggles, "I knocked on the other's doors. They should be down shortly."

Bren looks at Felicity with an annoyed glare, and then rolls his eyes. Not long after, Katen walks into the room, her eyes flicking everywhere.

"Come, come! Sit down darling, we're about to eat shortly!" Felicity motions her over to the table, and Katen sits down beside Felicity. I feel sorry for her.

"Morning everyone." Mica shuffles into the room, yawning. She sits down beside Bren and he gives her a friendly smile. Winfreigh and Seamus file in behind her. Winfreigh passes around me to sit down, and pats my back as he passes.

"Sleep well, Oli?"

"No, and I will never understand your reasoning behind that imprudent nickname of yours." I say abruptly.

He laughs, "Still the same as ever, I see."

"You two know each other then I presume?" Bren asks, raising his brow.

"_Unfortunately." _I remark, sneering.

"I'm friends with her older brothers, Ignatius and Jae. I also knew her sister, Aurelia."

The mention of Aura's name makes me tense up a little, "His family is friends with mine. Our parents knew each other since their childhood."

"How old are your brothers again?" Bren sets his coffee down and begins to put food onto his plate.

"Ignatius is nineteen. Jae will be twenty-one later in the year." I shift forward in my seat and grab a plate.

"Ignatius is a good kid. So is Jae. I trained with them for quite sometime. Where are they working now?"

"Down by the docks with my dad. Ignatius is still training to become a diver. Jae is a full-time deckhand to my father." I put a few of the batter cakes on my plate, and pour syrup on them. My mother has made these a few times, on special occasions.

"Ignatius is going to be a diver? That's amazing, considering it's still a vaguely new position within the career circle. He does have the strength for it. Good for him." Bren begins to stuff food into his mouth, chewing and swallowing quickly.

No one speaks much for the remainder of breakfast. Felicity is always trying to chit-chat with us but we don't usually respond how she wants us to. The slight hum of the train's motion is the only noise around us.

Soon enough we are enveloped into a dark tunnel, and the shining capitol sits idly waiting at the end.


End file.
